No One Else
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: Felicity and Oliver share an experience that no one else can understand. He is the only one who knows what she's been through and she now has a much more intimate understanding of what exactly he survived on the island. Olicity. Spoilers for 2x09.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **No One Else

**Author:** some1lostme

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Felicity and Oliver share an experience that no one else can understand. He is the only one who knows what she's been through and she now has a much more intimate understanding of what exactly he survived on the island.

**Spoilers:** 2x09 "Three Ghosts"

**Disclaimer:** Of course, I don't own _Arrow _or any of these characters. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them unharmed.

**Chapter One**

It takes longer than he's comfortable with for them to find her. In fact, it takes twelve hours, seventeen minutes and forty-one seconds. He knows because he was counting. He was counting and dying a little at each minute that passed.

It was his fault she was taken. It was always his fault. He never should've brought her into this. He should've let her leave. But he was selfish. He had needed her help. He'd needed her brain. Felicity was his friend, his partner in this whole vigilante charade that he'd started and, not for the first time, his crusade had put her in danger.

His heart had stopped beating in the hours that it had taken for them to track her down. Actually, it had been Diggle who'd finally located her. He'd been rendered useless by his fear and hadn't been able to do much in the way of finding his friend.

When they do finally find her, his heart breaks even further. She is chained up in an abandoned warehouse near the docks. Her lithe body is stretched, her hands cuffed above her head, her toes barely touching the floor. She is exposed, her body bare except for her lingerie, and she looks so small hanging there, limp and bleeding.

It's obvious what torture has been inflicted on her. He can see the lash lines that have broken her porcelain skin. His stomach revolts when he hears her voice, weak and cracking, as she pleads with her attacker to leave her alone. And then he hears his name tumble from her lips. Rage seizes him, bringing him back to himself.

The man standing beside Felicity, the man administering this torture, raises his arm as if he is going to strike her again and Oliver lets loose his first arrow. It cuts through the air and pierces its target before another blow can touch her. The man drops to the ground, his life taken from him before he even knows what's happening.

Felicity gasps in surprise, lifting her head slowly to look for him. When their eyes meet, it takes everything in him not to go to her. He needs to keep his head on straight. He has to find Slade and end this. He confirms with Diggle that the room is secure, waiting until the other man is there, helping Felicity free of her bonds and pulling her into his arms before he goes in search of his one-time friend.

He doesn't see her again until he arrives at the hospital. His search for Slade had been pointless because no matter how much he wanted to find him, he could only think of her. She would be damaged now. Damaged like him. He hated himself for that, for putting her in harm's way yet again. He hated himself because he knew that what she had experienced would change her. He didn't want Felicity to change, not at all.

"Diggle."

He finds his friend pacing in the waiting room at Starling City Memorial Hospital, worry etched in his features.

"She was unconscious by the time I got her here," he explains without further prompting, "Passed out from the pain would be my guess. Oliver, they beat her pretty damn close to death. Please tell me that you put an arrow in that son of a bitch."

He shakes his head, turning as a doctor comes into the room and calls Felicity's name. He and Digg approach the man, anxious for an update.

"Mr. Queen," the doctor's voice holds a hint of surprise, "You're here for Miss Smoak?"

"I am. How is she?"

The doctor glances down at the chart briefly and explains the extent of Felicity's injuries. Her back, from shoulder to hip, is covered in lacerations, some of them more severe than others. According to the doctor there are too many to count but Oliver knows that, when she's able, Felicity will be able to tell them exactly how many cuts there are. She will know exactly how many times she was struck. She will be able to recount the details of every blow just as he can. She will remember it all with terrifying clarity.

"Luckily there are no signs that she was sexually assaulted," the doctor says, "But she is dehydrated and in an extreme amount of pain. We're doing our best to remedy both."

Oliver's brain shuts down at the words _sexually assaulted._ He hadn't even considered the possibility. But Slade wasn't that cruel. No matter how much he hated Oliver, he would never have allowed anyone to do that to Felicity. At least that's what he had to believe.

"Can I see her?"

The doctor hesitates, "Typically we would only allow her family –"

"She has no family in the city," he interjects, "We're all she has. Please, I need to see her."

The doctor concedes but limits them to seeing her one at a time. Digg doesn't put up a fight. He simply clasps Oliver's shoulder briefly before crossing the room and taking a seat.

He follows the doctor down a long corridor. They come to a stop outside of a small exam room. The wall that looks out into the hall is all glass, a curtain pulled on the inside to protect the patient's privacy. His hands tighten to fists at his sides.

"I'd like her moved to a private room as soon as possible," he says firmly, "I don't care if she's in here for two days to two weeks, please just get her into another room."

The idea of Felicity being confined to this cramped space angers him. He doesn't want her waking up here. He doesn't want her waking up in the hospital at all but the time to prevent that has passed. He will do everything he can to make sure she's comfortable.

Without waiting for a response from her doctor, he enters her room and shuts the door quietly behind him. He pauses at the foot of her bed, unable to move as he takes in the sight before him. The large bed dwarfs the beautiful blonde lying there and it unnerves him. Her expressive blue are hidden from him as she is currently lying on her side, her face hidden by the curtain of her hair. The thin hospital blankets are pulled up to her waist, covering her legs and the lower half of her body, but he has a clear view of her back. The gap in the gown she wears allows him to see the angry red welts that now mar her flesh. The blood has been cleaned away and he can see that at least two of her injuries were sever enough that they required sutures. His stomach roils.

"Felicity?"

Her shoulders flinch at the sound of his voice. The reaction doesn't surprise him as much as it should. He rounds the end of the bed, crouching down beside her so that he is at her eye level. Her eyes, however, are tightly shut. She refuses to look at him.

With gentle fingers, he reaches out to brush the hair back from her face but when she flinches again at his touch, he feels as if he's been punched in the gut. Quickly withdrawing his hand, he remains still, staring at her silently, unsure of what to do. He understands her state of mind, he may be the only person who ever will, so he should be able to think of something to say to comfort her. But nothing that comes to mind seems appropriate. There is nothing that anyone could've said to him after he'd endured torture at the hands of a mad man that would've made him feel better. Nothing would've comforted him. He says the only thing that he truly wants to say to her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this happened to you. I'm sort that Slade used you. I should've known that he would target you and I should've protected you. This is my fault, Felicity, it's my fault and … God, I'm sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **No One Else

**Author:** some1lostme

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Felicity and Oliver share an experience that no one else can understand. He is the only one who knows what she's been through and she now has a much more intimate understanding of what exactly he survived on the island.

**Spoilers:** 2x09 "Three Ghosts"

**Disclaimer:** Of course, I don't own _Arrow _or any of these characters. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them unharmed.

**Chapter Two**

Three days after they found her she is discharged from the hospital. She's seen Diggle every day that she's been here but Oliver hasn't returned. He was there that first day, she'd confirmed with Digg that she hadn't imagined it, but she hasn't seen him since.

Not that she can blame him. She hadn't been able to talk to him then. She hadn't even been able to look at him. Even after he'd apologized, after he'd blamed himself for what had happened to her, she hadn't been able to meet his eyes. She'd heard the pain in his voice, she'd heard the regret. But she hadn't been able to tell him that she didn't blame him, at least not entirely. To say that he wasn't somewhat at fault wouldn't have been fair. He _was _the reason that she was always in danger. He had pulled her into his life without really consulting her first. Although, if she were really being honest with herself, she would've stepped to his side willingly.

Sighing, she puts on the new glasses that Digg had left for her. She doesn't want to think about what has happened to her old ones. She also doesn't want to go back to the mess that was her apartment. That was where they'd come from her. Two men in masks had ambushed her as she'd come home from a late night at Verdant. She'd fought for her life, using everything that she'd learned from Oliver and Digg but it had been useless. She'd been fighting men three times her size, men who'd clearly been injected with the same serum as Roy. She hadn't stood a chance against them.

Digg is picking her up, he'd promised to be there, but there is a large part of her that hopes Oliver will really be the one to show up. She misses him. She misses him more than she should but it can't be helped. They haven't spoken since she was taken and the only thing that she'd been able to think about when those men had been hurting her was him. She had waited for him to come for her. She had known that he would. And when he'd come, when she'd seen him in that warehouse, she'd wanted his arms around her. She had wanted it to be him carrying her away from that place.

She understands why it hadn't been him, though. Slade needed to be stopped. He needed to be stopped before he went after Mrs. Queen or Thea. He needed to be stopped before he killed someone that Oliver loved. The first time she'd woken to Digg in her room, he'd explained without her asking that Oliver had only left her to find Slade. As far as she knows, he has yet to be found.

She wishes that he were there, that she could have the opportunity to talk to him, but he has been avoiding her. She can't be sure why but a part of her is worried that he is staying away because he knows that she understands now. Their experiences, while so very different, have their similarities. She may not have spent five years trying to survive on an island with killers but she was tortured. Tortured by men who were out to hurt Oliver. She knows that he feels guilty but he has to know that she needs him, that he is the only person who could possibly understand how afraid she'd been. How afraid she still is.

She has realized that he is much stronger than any of them have ever given him credit for. Everyone assumes that it was a miracle that he'd survived on that island alone for as long as he had but they couldn't possibly understand that it was so much more than that. He hadn't been alone. He had been tortured. He'd been in hell. And he'd survived. He'd come home and even though he certainly wasn't the same man that he had been, it was clear to her that he was a better man. She's seen his scars. Whatever they had done to him, it was ten times worse than what had been done to her and she understood now. She got it. It really was a miracle that he had survived. It was a miracle that he'd _lived_, let alone that he had actually survived. He is so much stronger than anyone really knew.

She has just pulled a sweater over her tank top, wincing slightly as her stitches pull, when the knock comes at the door.

"Come in," she calls, knowing full well that it's Digg coming to rescue her again.

She hadn't known until just that morning but there have been armed guards posted outside of her room since she'd been moved. She knows without a doubt that it had been Oliver's doing. He is protecting her in the best way her knows how. The best way that doesn't involve him coming back to the hospital, at least.

She gives John a tired smile as he steps into the room. Her body aches everywhere. She has been practically bedridden for three days, hardly able to sit up let alone drag herself from her bed. Just the short trips she's made to the bathroom and back have exhausted her so she knows that the walk to the car is going to be difficult. Diggle understands though because he is pushing a wheelchair as he comes in. She laughs.

"It's a good thing I can't hide anything from you," she says, dropping heavily into the chair, "If Oliver were here, I'd have made him carry me. He's got those arms and he smells good and it'd be nice if he'd actually shown up."

She should've filtered that small piece of information but it's too late now. Diggle stays quiet as he wheels her toward the bank of elevators. She is certain that Digg already knows how she feels about Oliver, how she shouldn't feel about him, but he is kind enough not to make a big deal out of it. She hardly admits it to herself, let alone anyone else, but she has feelings for him, feelings one shouldn't have for their boss.

"The glasses look good, Felicity," he tells her a few moments later as he helps her into the car, "When did you get them?"

She angles herself in the passenger's seat, careful not to pull her stitches again, and stares at him wide-eyed.

"I thought you brought them."

He shakes his head, "Wasn't me."

The only other person who'd been allowed within ten feet of her hospital room apart from the staff had been Oliver. But it couldn't have been him. It couldn't have. She hadn't seen him since the day she'd been admitted. He hadn't come back. Why would he have brought her new glasses? When would he have brought them?

"Felicity, he was here every day. He's been sitting in the hallway outside of your room, grilling everyone going in and out."

"But… why?"

She can't say anything else. There isn't anything else to say. Why had he been avoiding her? It was hard enough thinking that he hadn't come around but to know that he'd been right outside her door and hadn't thought to come in and ask how she was, it hurt her. It hurt more than she was willing to admit.

"He doesn't know what to do, Felicity. He blames himself for all of this, for everything that's happened. He feels responsible."

She is silent. She doesn't know what to say. She wants Oliver. She wants to see him, to talk to him. She doesn't want to talk to Digg about this anymore.

They pull up in front of her apartment building and she waits for him to come around to her side of the car, helping her out with an arm around her waist. It is a long journey up two flights of stairs before they are standing in front of her door. She stops Digg with a hand on his arm.

"I think maybe I should just go to a hotel, hire someone to clean the place up first. I'm really not up for seeing the mess those assholes left behind when they kidnapped me."

He pulls his hand free, unlocking the door, and allowing it to swing open in front of them. What she sees surprises her. Her apartment looks as good as new. The debris has been removed, everything returned to its correct position. Her coffee table, which had been broken in the scuffle, has been replaced. She is even more surprised by the man that she sees standing at the window overlooking the street. He keeps his back to them as Digg helps her further into the apartment. When she is settled comfortably – as comfortably as possible anyway – on the sofa, Digg exits with a quiet goodbye. She is alone with the one person she has been longing to see for days but she doesn't even know where to begin.

"What are you doing here?" she asks eventually, "Not that I don't want you here, I do, but I don't understand what's going on."

Finally, he turns, his face a mask. He is good at hiding his emotions, he always has been, but now is not the time for masks. They need to talk, really talk, and she is going to force him to whether he's ready for it or not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: **No One Else

**Author:** some1lostme

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Felicity and Oliver share an experience that no one else can understand. He is the only one who knows what she's been through and she now has a much more intimate understanding of what exactly he survived on the island.

**Spoilers:** 2x09 "Three Ghosts"

**Disclaimer:** Of course, I don't own _Arrow _or any of these characters. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them unharmed.

**A/N: **I greatly appreciate the reviews and the fact that people really seem to be enjoying this story! There's something about Oliver and Felicity that I just can't resist! I'm thinking only one more chapter and this one will be finished.

**Chapter Three**

He can't find the right words as he turns to face her. There is so much that needs to be said between them. He's apologized. He's taken the blame. And the guilt that he feels just looking at her is enough to make him regret ever asking her to be a part of this. No, not regret. He doesn't regret it because he cannot regret bringing her into his life. Felicity means too much for him to regret a single moment that they've had together.

"Please, Oliver, there's only so much brooding that a girl can take. You've made it clear that you feel guilty for what happened to me but I'm asking you to let it go. Sure, the only reason Slade targeted me was because of you and yeah, I guess if you hadn't asked for my help all those months ago I wouldn't have been in danger in the first place but –"

Finally, he opens his mouth and says something just because he can't handle hearing what she's saying in that moment.

"Felicity, I get it but you're not helping," he tells her.

She shakes her head, grimacing slightly at the pain that shoots up the back of her neck. He closes the distance between them, sitting gently on the couch beside here. There are only a few inches of space between them but it feels like miles. The beginnings of a confession form on the tip of his tongue. This thing between them, whatever it is, has gotten out of control. He hadn't meant to let his feelings get the better of him. He had tried to rein them in. He'd tried his damnedest not to let Felicity Smoak get to him but it hadn't worked. This girl, his IT guru, his eyes and ears, she'd worked her way into his heart.

"Is your guilt what kept you away, Oliver?" she questions, "I was in the hospital for three days. Three long days but you never once came to see how I was. At least that's what I thought. Digg told me, you know, he told me that you stationed yourself outside of my door and while that's great and all, I'm glad you at least felt the need to check on me, it doesn't mean a damn thing Oliver. It doesn't mean anything to me because I needed you! I – I was scared. I _am_ scared. You're the only person I know who could possibly understand how I was feeling but you weren't there!"

He can hear the panic as her voice starts to rise. Tears are brimming in her eyes and his chest tightens as he stares at her. She's right to be angry with him. He should've been by her side. He never should've left but he'd needed the time to figure it out. Figure out what he would say to her. Felicity deserved someone who could stand beside her through anything. She deserved someone who wasn't a selfish bastard. He had run because he knew that staying meant telling her the truth. It meant telling her more about his time on the island. He hadn't been ready then. He still isn't ready now. But he knows that if he runs again, he'll lose her.

Carefully so that she will know his intention, he raises his hand to her face. He brushes the hair back from her cheek, his fingertips grazing the frame of the glasses that he'd bought for her. She doesn't pull away from him this time and he's grateful.

"I was scared, too, Felicity," he admits quietly, "I was scared for you. I was – I was afraid that I wouldn't get to you in time. And now… now this fear that consumes me every minute of every day is the fear that you're going to walk away."

She shakes her head, opens her mouth to speak, but he holds up the hand not currently cradling the side of her face to stop her. He can't stop touching her. He needs to know that she is okay, that she's really there, so touching her is the only way he can anchor himself in the moment.

"I can only imagine what happened to you. Actually, I don't need to imagine it. I remember it with vivid clarity because it's the same thing that happened to me. "

Felicity's eyes widen slightly and her breathing changes. There is fear and anxiety in her eyes as she stares back at him. He doesn't know if she is picturing him in the same situation that she was in just a handful of days earlier or if she's flashing back to what Slade's men did to her. Either way her fear is palpable.

"I will never let that happen to you again, Felicity. I promise you that no one, not Slade or anyone like him, will ever hurt you again. And I swear to you that this will get easier. You will be able to sleep through the night. The nightmares, they will go away. The fear will become manageable. You will get better."

Tears are threatening to fall from her eyes. He can't bear to see her cry. Felicity is always so happy, so spunky and full of life. Seeing terror and agony in her eyes tears at the walls he's built up within himself, walls only she seems to be able to break down. He had agonized for hours about how he would proceed, how they would proceed. Everything between them would change, it had changed. When he'd gone to her at Queen Consolidated that first time with the laptop, he hadn't expected her to become a permanent fixture in his life. He hadn't anticipated how much he would come to rely on her, not only her skills as a tech specialist but on her in general. She had the ability to see reason when he couldn't, to calm him when all he wanted to do was put an arrow in something or someone. Felicity was the one thing in the world that seemed to ground him.

"How long?"

He is pulled from the debate swirling within him by her soft question.

"How long what?" he asks.

Her eyes dart to the other side of the room, to something behind him. He lowers his hand to the side of her neck, his thumb moving slowly along the line of her jaw. It is a simple touch and he can only hope that it will help soothe her obviously damaged nerves.

"How long did it take for you to manage the fear? For the nightmares to stop?" she clarifies.

For half a moment he considers not answering her. But only for half a moment. He needs to tell her. He will help her get through this. He hadn't had anyone to help him. He hadn't had the support that she has now. He will be there for her as much as possible.

"That's all up to you, Felicity. You have to find a way to put it behind you. I can't tell you how to do that but I can tell you that, whatever you need, I'm here."

Her eyes are blank when they meet his again.

"Was being the vigilante what you used to cope? When you came back the first time? Is that what helped you?"

He swallows hard, bracing himself as he lets the answer fall from his lips.

"In a way, it helped. I had a mission, a purpose, and I was able to rationalize what happened to me. I told myself that everything that I'd experienced on Lien Yu had been preparation for what my father expected me to do," he explains, "Rationalizing it made it easier but it didn't stop the nightmares. It didn't take the fear away. When I came home, for the first few months, I'd wake up in the dead of the night thinking that I was back on the island, that coming home had just been a dream."

She is staring at him intently now, her expression sympathetic. He's grateful that that is all he sees in her eyes. It there was pity there, he wouldn't have been able to continue.

"But honestly, Felicity, having people that I could talk to really helped. When I realized that I could tell Diggle some of the things that happened to me, when I realized that I could let him in even if it was just a little, it helped. I felt a sense of relief I hadn't expected. I can't tell Thea or my mother about the island, I can't even tell them that I wasn't alone there. They wouldn't understand. I came back and they expected me to be the person that I had been, they expected me to be the Oliver that left on the Gambit. I wasn't that man anymore. Everything had changed for me in those five years."

She nods her head slightly because she understands. She knows that the billionaire CEO act is just that, an act. He'd had to tell her who he really was because the idea of Felicity thinking he was just another over-privileged jerk had bothered him even before she was really a part of the team. He'd also known that she wasn't an idiot and that the lies he'd made up in asking for her help were ridiculously thin.

"You helped, too. Having you around, it helped me get through it, Felicity. I know that I may not tell you enough that I appreciate everything that you've done for me but I do. I don't… I don't have a lot of friends and I certainly don't have a lot of people that I trust. I have Diggle and I – I have you."

Something in his voice must've given away what he's really trying to say because her expression changes again. He sees the questions in her eyes. What's changed? Why now? Are you saying what I really think that you're saying? He can't help the small smirk that tugs at his lips. Her eyes are so expressive. It's one of the many things that he likes about her. He can read her like an open book. He knows it's not fair because he does whatever he can to make sure that no one can read him the same way, even her, but her openness sometimes intimidates him.

"Oliver…"

But he shakes his head, cutting her off again as he leans in to close the distance between them. In the moment just before their lips meet she gasps into his mouth. For a long moment she seems froze, unsure of how to respond, but then her eyes slip closed and her lips soften under his. His hand slides around to the back of her head, moving so slowly that his fingers barely ghost her skin before sinking into her long blonde hair. He finds her right hand with his left, squeezing it tightly as his own eyes close and he allows himself to really feel her.

When she'd been missing, when Slade's men had taken her, this was what he'd been thinking about. He had agonized over not knowing what she felt like, what she tasted like. He had worried that she would be taken from him before he'd had the chance to show her how he felt. He can't tell her, not yet, the words are still too difficult to say, but the least he can do is show her.

He's showing her now and he hopes that she understands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **No One Else

**Author:** some1lostme

**Rating:** K

**Summary:** Felicity and Oliver share an experience that no one else can understand. He is the only one who knows what she's been through and she now has a much more intimate understanding of what exactly he survived on the island.

**Spoilers:** 2x09 "Three Ghosts"

**Disclaimer:** Of course, I don't own _Arrow _or any of these characters. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them unharmed.

**Chapter Four**

She has to pull away from him to breathe, her lungs and her heart working in tandem to keep her from passing out. Oliver's hand is still cradling the back of her head, his forehead resting against hers. She can't make a coherent thought come out of her mouth so she simply sits with him on her small sofa, shivering every time he squeezes her fingers.

Her brain is in overdrive trying to process exactly what is happening. Oliver just kissed her. He told her that he'd been afraid of losing her to Slade. He had said that he'd been worried that she would leave after what had happened. And she had considered it. She'd thought about leaving, about telling Oliver that she was done being his Girl Wednesday, that her life and her safety were too important to her. But the thought of giving him up had hurt her almost as much as the lashes that had damaged her body. He is her friend, he is more than that but she can't find the right word. Is that what this is? Is he trying to tell her that they can finally move past this awkward friends-but-maybe-more-than-friends phase?

She takes in a breath, opening her eyes slowly. Oliver's eyes remain closed.

"Tell me what this means," she insists and she's proud of how strong her voice sounds, "Because if this is just some desperate attempt to get me to stay then I – I'll kill you, Oliver, I swear that I will. Tell me what this is."

He opens his mouth but closes it again. She knows that talking things through isn't exactly his strong suit. She's also familiar with the expression 'actions speak louder than words' but in this case, his actions have only served to confuse her further. She needs clarification.

"What do you want me to say that I haven't already said?"

She isn't surprised that a bit of his temper is showing. He's already out of his comfort zone and she's asking him to step a little farther outside of the lines. But this Oliver she can deal with. She can handle angry Oliver.

"I want you to tell me that you're not in love with Laurel anymore. I want you to explain what you're feeling now. What are you trying to tell me? Pretend that I can't read between the lines and just make me understand."

His eyes open and suddenly she is staring into the haunted blue depths. Another shiver runs through her. This is a part of his damage, one of the many parts. As his friend she's learned to deal with the many different sides of him but if they move forward, if they become something more than friends, he's going to need to learn to really let her in.

"You think that I'm still in love with Laurel?" he asks quietly, his tone not one that she had hoped to hear during this conversation.

She sighs and pulls away from him completely. She can't have this conversation with him while he's touching her. She's grateful that he doesn't move with her as she settles gently against the arm of the couch.

"I need to know how you feel about her because I won't compete with her. That wouldn't be fair to me."

His answer doesn't come right away. Her heart is in her throat as she waits for him to give her the truth that she needs to hear. He avoids looking at her for a long moment, focusing instead on a framed photo of her and her father that is hanging near the door. Eventually, he turns his attention back to her. His hands are fists in his lap.

"I thought that I was still in love with her when I came back. When I came back the first time, I mean. I credited Laurel for getting me off of that island alive. She – getting back to her had motivated me for a long time to do whatever the hell I could to survive. So yes, at first, I was still in love with her. But I wasn't the only one who changed in the five years that I was gone. The Laurel that I left wasn't the same Laurel that I came back to. She'd changed, too. I came back thinking that she wouldn't be any different than she had been when I'd left. I'd let myself believe that I could make things better between us. And in a way, things are better, but they'll never be the same. She still blames me for Sara's death. She still blames the vigilante for Tommy's. But Laurel's mind isn't going to be changed. She may have forgiven me enough to be my friend but she'll never forgive me enough to be anything more."

She sits silently and prays that he's going to continue. His words haven't exactly made her feel better.

He runs his fingers through his hair, blowing out his breath before going on.

"I still love her. I think in some way I always will. She's been my friend for a long, long time. I can't just dismiss that. But I'm not in love with her. I don't have any romantic feelings for her. It took longer than it should have for me to realize that but I know it now. How could I really love someone who can't stand something that means so much to me? How could I love her knowing that she would never truly forgive me for Sara? Laurel and I … we were a good idea. To be completely honest with you, if I hadn't gotten on my dad's yacht that day, if things hadn't happened the way that they did, I probably would've married her. And it would've been miserable because even before Sara, things between Laurel and I weren't perfect. They were obviously pretty messed up if I didn't think twice about cheating on her with her little sister."

She closes her eyes as relief settles over her.

"Thank god because if you hadn't realized that for yourself, I really was going to have to kill you. I mean, not that I actually could kill you because, well, look at you. You're like three times my size plus, you know, you've got that whole killer arrow thing going on."

She bites her lip and stops talking. Her normal tendency to ramble is heightened by the painkillers currently buzzing through her system. She is still unsure of how he wants to continue, what exactly it is that he wants, but she's happy that the brick wall that was Laurel Lance has been demolished.

"Where does that leave us?" he asks her.

She shrugs, "You tell me. I know that I haven't exactly been subtle when it comes to how I feel about you. Clearly subtly is not one of my strong suits. But you aren't so forthcoming. You need to tell me what you want, Oliver, because I'm not as good at reading you as I pretend to be."

She is happy to see the corner of his mouth lift into that smirk that she likes so much. She really will have to remember not to take any sort of mood altering medication in his presence because she's having more word vomit than he doesn't seem to mind. At least he's amused now rather than brooding and angry. She likes this side of him, too.

"I'd have to agree with that," he says lightly, "Subtly definitely isn't your strong suit. And what I want… what I want is to take you to more than just more than the CEO and his executive assistant. I want to be able to interact with you without having to stop myself from touching you or saying things that I shouldn't say to you as just your friend. I want to be able to tell you how beautiful you are and run my fingers through your hair and kiss you because I want to without worrying about what it's going to do to you."

She feels her face heat at his words and as much as she wishes it wasn't happening, fresh tears are in her eyes. This is a side of him that she hasn't seen. She doesn't get to see the sweet Oliver. He reserves that part of himself for the women in his life who are not his tech specialist / executive assistant. For those words to be directed at her now, it does something weird to her insides.

"I want those things, too. I've wanted them for a long time," she says, her voice betraying her emotions, "But I – Can we do this? Can you and I actually be more than friends?"

He shrugs, "I don't see why not."

She worries her lip between her teeth. There is no way that she's going to turn him down, not for all of the tea in China, but she has her worries. Being his colleague has proved to be dangerous enough so she can only imagine what it'll be like as his girlfriend. And god, does she worry about him. She worries about him every time he dons the Arrow's garb so what's going to happen when she falls in love with him? She scoffs at herself. She's already _in_ love with him, she didn't need to deny it.

"I'll be a target. More than I am now. They'll use me to get to you. Anyone who ever targets you, anyone who discovers your secret, if they know that I'm your … girlfriend then they'll target me, won't they?"

He closes the space between them again, sitting close enough now that their knees are touching, and takes both of her hands in his.

"Felicity, I won't let anyone hurt you," he promises again, "I will never let them touch you again. I'm sorry that I didn't realize that Slade would target you. He realized how important you are to me before I was able to admit it to myself. If I hadn't been trying so damn hard to avoid how I feel about you I could've predicted his movements. I would've kept you safe."

She leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder, turning her face into the side of his neck. He was worth the risk. There was no doubt in her mind. She wouldn't walk away from him. She couldn't. And she knew that he would keep his promise, that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe even if that meant endangering himself. That was Oliver.

"Thank you."

He stiffens at her whispered gratitude.

"For what?"

She shrugs, forgetting about her injuries only to be painfully reminded that they're there. He releases her hands, using his to gently explore her back and sides. She knows that he is cataloguing every laceration that he can feel and she is glad that he can't see the extent of the bruising that has formed around those lacerations.

"For coming for me. "

His hands settle on the sides of her neck and he lifts her head from where she's concealed herself in his shoulder. They are eye to eye now.

"There was no choice to make. He had you and he was going to hurt you."

He repeats his words from the day that The Count had taken her hostage at Queen Consolidated. The day that he'd killed to save her. The words _I love you _almost escape her lips but she keeps them contained. They are true. She does love him. But even after all that they'd been through in the course of the last year, she knew that it was too early to confess something so important. It wasn't the right time, not yet, but they would get there. They would get there together.

**The End… or maybe it's just the beginning.**


End file.
